


Conduct Unbecoming

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 1776 (1972), 18th Century CE RPF
Genre: Canon Era, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Poor John Adams, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: John Adams only wanted to collect political documents from John Dickinson. Meeting him at his apartment was convenient. Seeing Edward Rutledge lounging in Dickinson's bed, was not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> honestly edwards like john u can sit down on my dick lmao bc its clever not bc hes a top in any way shape or form

The bedclothes were tousled, Adams noticed upon entering John Dickinson’s apartment, even though it was nearly midday. The second thing he noticed, was that there appeared to be someone still in the bed. The Massachusetts delegate turned, spluttering indignantly, and Dickinson hushed him, brows furrowed.

The room was only so large, and contained only an armoire, writing desk and chair, bed, and washbasin. The figure in the bed made a low sound and rolled over. Dickinson toed his quiet way over to this desk and rummage for a minute before withdrawing a series of documents. He handed them to Adams, casting a look over his shoulder before ushering John back out into the hall.

Unlike Jefferson’s loft, Dickinson had purchased a room above a Southern-owned tavern on the outskirts of the city. Adams was vaguely aware that most of the affluent delegates from the South were homed there for their stay in Philadelphia.

“Sir,” Adams began the moment the door clicked shut, “I find it highly inappropriate that you would invite me into your chambers regardless of the honor of that woman.”

Dickinson appraised Adams briefly, one brow raised minutely above the other, than snorted pointedly. “ _Woman_?” He drawled, a smirk alighting on his lips.

Adams’ eyes were drawn to the harsh red marks peeking just over the lip of Dickinson’s cravat, painted there on the Southerner’s skin. He swallowed a little. “Good, God.”

Dickinson laughed a little and clapped a hand on Adams’ shoulder, motioning at the papers. “Those’ll support some of the issues we discussed.”

The shorter of them nodded slowly, casting his gaze down to inspect the papers in his hands. The door behind them cracked open, and, clad in a pair of breeches and an open shirt, Edward Rutledge peered out. Sleep still held sway over his countenance, his hair in a disarray. He looked, for lack of better terms in Adams’ vocabulary, utterly debauched.

“Good morning, John, John.” Edward nodded at them in turn, then leaned in against Dickinson’s ear and murmured something inaudible to Adams.

John felt as though he were intruding between lovers, which clearly, he was. He averted his gaze awkwardly and wondered what Franklin would do in this situation. Probably make light of it with clever small talk. Adams chose to remain quiet.

He couldn’t help but noticed the way Rutledge’s hand lingered just a moment too long on Dickinson’s elbow; how when he pulled away from their private conversation, his lips grazed Dickinson’s ear. He also couldn’t help but noticed that when Rutledge turned and made his way back into Dickinson’s apartment, he trod with a pronounced limp.

Adams’ face flushed hotly at the implication, and his fingers tightened around the papers he held.

“Anyways,” Dickinson intoned, leaning against the doorway, “I suppose you’ll have an argument planned out by Monday?”

“Of course.” John answered tightly. He could deal with politics. This…not so much.

He turned to leave, clearing his throat. Dickinson watched him until he was at the end of the hall, then called, “Oh, John?”

Adams turned hesitantly, wariness written across his face. Dickinson looked absolutely salacious.

“Neddy would like you to know that you’re free to join us.”

Adams choked a little on the air in his lungs and promptly hurried away.

Dickinson chuckled and closed his apartment door behind him, gladly returning to bed.


End file.
